Join the Navy! (and stay Squeaky Clean!)
Months after graduating high school, I decided on Jan
1941 to join the military. My older brother insisted upon accompanying
me to the Main Post Office, where the various branches of the military
recruited. Admonishing me not even remotely to think of joining the
Army or Marines, where I certainly would end up with daily trips into
the field saddled with massive pack; mud up to my butt; crawling in
foxholes, etc.

As we attempted to elude the menacing Army recruiter,
my brother Bill remarked that the Navy was the only way to go: clean
ships surrounded by lots of pure sparkling ocean ! So join I did, looking
forward to a life of cruising on board proud immaculate warships!

HOWEVER, in reality, I was to find myself months later,
directed by orders, wallowing in mud and occupying foxholes while training
as Navy Field Medical Technician alongside the US Marines!! Still further
along in time, more of the same, only now embellished by combat in the
muddy, rotting malaria-infested jungles of Guadalcanal! Oh Yeah! That
trusted, much revered sibling of mine was right on the money in his
advising: 'Join the Navy and stay SQUEAKY CLEAN'!

"Gyrene" NicknameMy nickname "Gyrene" is formed from combining
"G.I." & Marine. (It is a nickname for a U.S.Marine.)
"doc" is the nickname used by Marines (and others!) referring
to we Navy Corpsmen. So, that makes me a gyrene type of doc, with my
11 years of serving alongside the U.S.Marines, plus wearing their uniform
while on duty!

Overseas to New ZealandUpon arrival at Wellington, New Zealand on board
the "Starvation Ship": S. S. ERICSSON, we transferred directly
to the U.S.S.HUNTER LIGGETT (our troop transport slated for the assault
on Guadalcanal,(S.I.). tied up at the Aotero Quay. Soon after, we troops
were granted "liberty" to visit our host city. Not caring
to go ashore at the time, I was hoping one of my shipmates would bring
back something savory to quiet my shrunken, grumbling stomach!

Far later that night, I received this wake-up call
from my shipmate Tom Richardson as I slept on the very top of a five-high
tier of bunks. Climbing the dizzy heights at the risk of nosebleed,
he presented me this mangled package of hot, greasy food, unceremoniously
wrapped in the local newspaper! With cramped, bony-butt pressed up tight
against the ship's steel overhead; jockeying on my knees into an attack
position in my claustrophobic bunk; I had finally come face-to-face
with that tasty, mouthwatering (slightly flavored with PRINTING INK!)
world renown dish--- "Fish & Chips"!

Guadalcanal 1942

Farewell To ArmsIn anticipation of our Guadalcanal assault landing,
we Navy Corpsmen were instructed to wear armbands with large red crosses
on white backgrounds, in compliance with the Geneva Convention. However,
as the U.S.Marines made an earlier assault on the islands north of Guadalcanal,
their Corpsmen were being specifically targeted by the enemy. Orders
were given by the Command to halt immediately the wearing of Red Cross
Brassards and issue arms to all medical personnel. (We were given .45
caliber semi-automatic pistols!)

Later, as we waited to descend from the USS HUNTER
LIGGETT, into our Higgins Boat landing craft, for the assault on the
"Canal", one of the more inquisitive Corpsmen of our group
meekly pulled out a large bulging handkerchief. He slowly untied its
ends exposing a .45 caliber pistol detailed-stripped into endless puzzling
pieces! (His curiosity as to its inner workings just prior to the order
to disembark the ship, reverted him to his original "UNARMED STATUS"

Under USMC ManagementWas the assigned Corpsman for a 75mm Gun Half-track
with a crew of five rugged gyrates!! (They would become my "adopted
family" for the rest of the four chaotic months on the island!)

One day, surrounded by Japs on land, sea and air, I
found myself cramped sardine-like in our makeshift dugout with a glowingly
edgy crew. We were under a never-ending shelling by Jap warships cruising
off the coast. As the tension increased, I decided it time to put into
play my self-appointed role of "Morale Officer" In a faked,
stern voice I bellowed out loud-and-clear: "Listen up people"!!
"Regardless of what these Japs have in mind, this chunk of real
estate referred to as the "Canal" is going to remain strictly
under US Marine Corps Management!! (Well at least I got a chuckle out
of them, helping to ease the rising tension, and------ my prediction
of sustained U.S.Marine control over the island proved accurate!!!)

Seating on the 50 Yard Line
As Coastal Defense components(75mm Gun Half-track),
we were privy to the naval battles erupting to the north of the "Canal".
Whenever the Japanese Navy's attention was diverted to our naval ships
at sea and away from we"landlubbers" on the beach, the action
could be witnessed undisturbed. At times close enough in daylight to
seeing ships lay down smoke screens, and at night observing the blasts
of naval guns, and, on
occasion the resulting fireball of an exploding ship beyond the horizon.
All this sitting (much too fatigued to watch standing!) on a long wooden
plank brought near the water's edge. This furnished dry seating on the
'50 yard line' as we lay witness to those deadly games,(and always praying
the last ball of fire was one of their ships, and not one of ours!!)
We always had that prevailing sense of guilt we had turned this witnessed
'Game-of-Death' into a stirring recreational event!!

Poker, Anyone?While encamped for a spell in the coconut
grove, one means of diverting our thoughts from the frequent harassing
events erupting around us, was to indulge ourselves in a relaxing game
of penny ante poker. Whenever there was a perceptible lull in enemy
action, OUT came those stained and moldy '52s', along with our 'card
table' (a regulation poncho, sprawled out on that soggy, bug-infested
earth!)

During those times only torrential rains during daylight
hours or lack of moonlight at night (blackout in effect!) curtailed
operations. On those few nights of sufficient moonlight, the 'card table'
was dragged all over the area in an attempt(not always successful!)
to stay within the moonlight and out of the shadow of the coconut palms!
(We were all honor-bound to keep the game honest(?) whenever drifting
clouds might temporarily blacken-out our migrating 'table' at night!!)

Sadist Among UsAs a Navy Corpsman assigned to a crew of U.S.Marines,
victims of a prolonged, severely reduced rationing, I found myself desperate
to supplement in some way our sparse, dull diet. One day, a member of
our crew was assigned to a truck detail transporting food from the supply
depot to outlying units. After an extended debate, I finally persuaded
him to toss something extra tasty and stomach-filling from his truck
the next time it passed our bivouac.

As darkness fell and the truck went by, off flew a
large can to rest within our perimeter. Setting it aside, we decided
to tantalize ourselves by not checking the contents. Later that night
we all figured it was time for some "goodies". Aided by partial
moonlight (blackout in effect!), I was given the honor of reading its
contents.(Mind you that we were in the middle of a productive coconut
grove.) The contents: SHREDDED COCONUT!! (Obviously, we had picked a
sadistic budding comedian for that truck detail!!)

Am I My Brother's Keeper?During one of the intensive shelling we endured,
through the courtesy of the Jap Navy, the U.S.Marines of our half-track
crew held me personally liable for these disruptive and endless intrusions:
"Hey Doc"!! "So where the hell's your Navy?" (Seems
the U.S.Navy had conveniently sailed off into the sunset, leaving us
landlubbers "orphaned"!)

As the threatening shells whizzed over our sardine-packed
dugout, bloodshot eyes began centering on me. A massive burden of GUILT
weighed heavily upon the aging shoulders of this 19 year old Navy "squid".
The stern look of disgust on the faces of my "former" Marine
buddies found me muttering to myself: "MEA CULPA"! "MEA
CULPA"!

Navy Corpsman on Guadalcanal
I can only offer info(medical or otherwise) affecting
my limited world of 5 Marines on a 75mm Gun Half-track that for the
greater part either camped or operated in mostly isolated areas: Guadalcanal
was a jungle-like, hot, damp mosquito-infected island blessed further
with
heavy downpours and lightning flashes that at times could not be distinguished
from that of enemy Naval gun flashes! An island
that rocked to-and-fro as a broadside of 14" shells from a Jap
battleship sunk deep within its innards. An island that trembled almost
daily from heavy enemy bombings(and head-bashing falling coconuts!).
An island continually invaded by an increasing number of Japanese troops,
predetermined to have their say!!

Medical Treatment in the Jungle"Front line" battle wounds were treated
with the topical application of a moderate coating of Sulfanilamide
Powder "sprinkled" directly into the open wound. Sulfathiazol
Tablets given orally (if not an abdominal wound!) for the additional
fight against bacterial infection. Then a dry padded "battle dressing"
was applied. If patient was in extreme pain, Morphine Sulfate (1/4gr)
was injected intramuscularly (into deltoid if practical). The Morphine
Solution was in a small squeezable tube affixed with sterile needle,
ready for immediate use. I carried in an emptied Jap gas mask case (quite
big!) various first aid items ranging from simple Band Aids to Morphine
Sulfate. Many other items necessary to maintain a health fighting crew,
were also carried in that case,or in my 'Unit Three' (pouches with shoulder
harness).

Symptoms of MalariaChills--fever-chills-fever,
etc were referred to the Regimental Aid Station as were any and all
cases that I could not handle in isolation. Preventive Medicine: Atabrine
Tablets administered semiweekly to suppress malaria symptoms; salt tablets
prior to or after excessive perspiration; proper hygiene--the "whore's
bath" accomplished with helmet filled to capacity with rainwater.
The all-purpose helmet also substituted as "washtub" for our
delicate undergarments (that in time rotted away!)

Fire Away!
The suppressive treatment against malaria in the form
of Atabrine Tablets given two days out of the week on Guadalcanal, gave
rise to a tense game of hide-and-seek between the bestowers and the
recipients of these highly despised pills! As the Marines completed
their pass through the "chowline"(?),"laden down"(?)
with their tightly limited ration of food and drink, two career-oriented
Navy Corpsmen greeted them graciously!

One popped that greatly detested Atabrine into their
ordered "OPEN WIDE" mouths while the other stood as "inspector"
further down the line, determined to detect unswallowed tablets. With
the aid of tongue depressors, the incorruptible "inspector"
found them: (1) tucked under the upper lip; (2) buried under an unyielding
tongue; and (3) stuck securely to the roof of the mouth (rather than
on their carefree way to the "victim's" stomach!) Notwithstandng
this ridged scanning, the grounds around the mess tent soon wound up
peppered generously with those hated pills, jet-fired from the mouths
of those extra resourceful Marines who managed to slip through that
tight security "net"!!

Fungus& Trying to Stay DryAs the cry went out "There's fungus among us",
I admonished the men to keep themselves as dry as possible. (You could
hear their sharp, snide retorts echo throughout that clammy, steaming,
rain- drenched jungle: "YEAH"!! "RIGHT"!!) One of
our crew was reluctant to leaving his private foxhole at any time. He
ate, slept, ( etc.!!) there until his sparse clothes began to mold.
After several unsuccessful attempts to entice him out, we forcefully
took him to the Regimental Surgeon for evaluation. (He was immediately
replaced.)

Evacuation of CasualtiesEvacuation of casualties by Field Hospital was initially by Higgins
Boats to offshore ships. Later with the availability of the airstrip
on Guadalcanal, military transport planes evacuated patients to rear
area hospitals, some distance from the island. Used my shelter halved
"Sick Bay" area as 'Headquarters' for poker playing; gripe
sessions and sea story telling. In addition to medical treatment for
various conditions, I also believed in dispensing MEGA-DOSES of much
needed "Positive Thinking" to help neutralize the debilitating
affect of surrounding and never ending CHAOS!!

Saving Ones DignityDuring a Japanese air raid on Guadalcanal, our newly
formed Half-Track coastal defense position was completely leveled wounding
a Marine crew member and blowing "yours truly" out of my shallow
foxhole. The man, a no-nonsense type of rugged Marine, whispered in
my ear as I treated his very extensive wounds: "Doc"! "I
think I 'DID IT' in my pants"!! Knowing of his macho image, I reassured
him that under similar circumstances, 'DOING IT' in one's pants is par-for-the-course.
Besides, none of the Half-track crew now knew nor need EVER know it
happened to him!! With
this assurance, the apprehensive tension on his face suddenly disappeared
as he was then transported to a medical facility in the 'rear' (as if
there ever WAS a safe 'REAR' on Guadalcanal!!)

Cape Gloucester, New Britain 1943

A Stitch in Time
During a lull in enemy activity on Cape Gloucester,
N.B.(1943), we three Navy
Corpsmen were involved in a softball match just outside our 11th Marines
Aid
Station. We tried striking one another "out" while rotating
positions as pitcher,
catcher, and batter. On my turn as catcher, Joe Downs (a young novice
in the medical field) was up at bat. As he swung his bat to the rear,
(in anticipation of hitting the pitched ball), Joe bounced that deadly
"Louisville Slugger" off my protruding, unmasked skull!

The result was a long, deep gash on my forehead that
would require stitching! With the more senior medical personnel absent
at the time, I sensed a unique opportunity to introduce our "chancre
mechanic" apprentice to some advanced hands-on training! With small
mirror in hand to monitor the procedure step-by-step, I instructed my
"student" Joe in some rather outstanding artful "needlework"
(practiced on my not so numb forehead!) He, though a bit more apprehensive
than I,, nevertheless did an outstanding job. And why not---- (considering
his instructor's cool, composed, impersonal guidance!

Hiroshima & V-J Day 1945

A Wild Party, A Reprieve

I was stationed at the US Navy Salvage Diving School
at Pier 88, New York, NY at the time of the Hiroshima bombing (at that
time not quite grasping the magnitude of the event). I remained stationed
there the day the war ended. It was unbelievable! Just minutes after
word flashed over the radio of the war's end, what seemed like hundreds
of American flags ame popping out of windows from row after row of agin
tenements on the mid-west side of Manhattan. We watached in amazment
from the upper deck of our Navy facility. Our commanding officer granted
us immediate libery as we ran (not walked!) to Times Square about a
half mile away, to join in the wild ongoing celebration. The end of
the war meant no further assaults as a Navy hospital corpsmen assigned
to the US Marines. No more Guadalcanals - no more Cape Gloucesters for
me!

Richer in Pusan, Korea 1950

John Francis Richter Largo,
Florida

To
learn more about Mr. Richer's Korean War Service, visit his webpage.